


Love in the Time of Corona

by boychik



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Coronavirus, Established Relationship, I learned a new word: squiffy, M/M, Vacation, Wine, farm, infecting each other, not practicing social distancing :(
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-17
Updated: 2020-03-17
Packaged: 2021-03-01 04:47:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,425
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23179468
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/boychik/pseuds/boychik
Summary: Romano and Antonio receive unsettling news one morning.
Relationships: South Italy/Spain (Hetalia)
Kudos: 12





	Love in the Time of Corona

**Author's Note:**

> Happy birthday Romano!! ♡ my icon forever ♡

They receive the letter on a sunny morning in a Belgian B&B. Bella had given them the prettiest little room for their vacation: smooth wood floors, open windows that welcomed a mop of curling ivy crawling up the sill, sheets so fresh you could almost smell the field where its cotton first grew. Even the dust catches golden in the light. Romano is sleeping tight in Antonio’s embrace when he hears the maid’s knock. He pushes his fingers through Antonio’s tousled hair, then places his lips right next to Antonio’s ear and says with his strange combination of annoyance and glee, “Wake up!” Then as a bleary Antonio lifts his heavy trap of an arm, and the two pull on shirts, Romano calls to the maid: “Come in!”

“So sorry to disturb you this early, but I have for you a message from Italy. It was marked as urgent.” She presents the letter and departs as quickly as she arrived, noting from their yawns and bedhead that she has interrupted their sleep.

 _Dear Romano,_ the letter reads. 

_I hope this letter finds you well. I’m afraid to inform you that Feliciano has fallen ill. He was diagnosed today and is staying home on doctor’s orders. If you are available to visit him, feel free to come by anytime. He’s resting and appears stable for now, but we don’t know how it will progress._

_Sincerely,_

_Ludwig_

_Ludwig!_ Just the name made him bristle. What right did that bastard have to be closer to Feliciano than his own brother? Writing these gormless yet disgustingly polite letters? A smaller part of him was grateful that Feli had someone to rely on, but it is swallowed up in his distaste for Feliciano’s partner.

Antonio picks up on the shift in Romano’s mood. “May I read it...?”

Romano hands over the letter to Antonio wordlessly.

Antonio skims the letter, mouthing a few words to himself. “Hmm... I see...” He looks up earnestly to meet Romano’s gaze. We’ll go back if that’s what you want, my little tomato.”

Romano turns, facing away from Antonio. “Well, it’s not what I want. And don’t call me a tomato!”

“If you say so.” Antonio grabs Romano’s shoulders and turns him back around. “Hey, Lovi, look at me.”

Beyond his blush, Romano’s eyes show his resolve. “Let’s keep going. I didn’t come all the way out here with you just to turn around.”

“Whatever you want.” Antonio smiles with first his eyes, then his whole face, then his whole body, as he wraps Romano in a hug.

An hour later they arrive to meet Bella and go wine-tasting at one of her farms. Romano is excited, farm-lover that he is, but he can’t quite shake the feeling that there is something wrong, something strange about hanging out with her while on vacation with his boyfriend. Sure, they were just kids when she flirted and teased him, but as Romano grew up, he felt like he never had any closure. He remembers that sinking feeling he got when Bella admitted she was just playing around, that she saw him as a little brother. Would he ever feel that way with Antonio? Romano shook his head as memories of his youth crowded and shaded his mind like roots choking a rival tree. He feels weird that Antonio is there with him, but he also feels grateful to have him by his side. Today, he tells himself, today is what matters. He wants his head to be as clear as the sky.

Speaking of the sky, the morning’s news couldn’t make it any less of a gorgeous day. The sky is bright and landscape lush, fluffy cumulus clouds and huge bales of hay straight from the pastoral playbook. Romano squints as Antonio draws him close, excitedly pointing out the different livestock.

“Oh, look at him over there... that brown one... what’s he doing now?”

“Looks like he’s sniffing that other cow’s... oh, my!”

Bella comes up and greets them with air kisses, exclaiming excitedly about how long it’s been. She uncorks a bottle, splashing a healthy amount into all three glasses.

“Isn’t this nice,” Antonio beams. “On a beautiful farm with my beautiful Lovino. Drinking some beauuutiful wine.”

Bella laughs. “Can wine really be beautiful?”

Antonio winks. “I assure you, this wine is. A toast to your lovely farm!” He lifts his glass to the air and Romano and Bella follow suit. His other hand moves to caress Romano’s waist and Romano blushes furiously. The three drain their glasses quickly, smiling with stained-red lips.

“Oh, I also had this one sent over from France the other day... I’ve just been waiting to try it with you both...”

“That froggy bastard?” Romano asks suspiciously.

“No, no, well, yes,” Bella says. “But don’t worry! I assure you it tastes amazing...”

It hits bitter and dry, but smooth. He swallows and feels the wine immediately rush to his head. Not better, no, French wine would never best Italian, but it was certainly stronger than any of the Italian wines he keeps at home. That Francis was an alcoholic for sure...

More than a few toasts later, Romano is gazing at the hay bales and muttering. “I swear it’s that bastard’s fault, it always is... no-good potato thinks he’s fit to hang around my brother like that...” He kicks the ground, only getting angrier when it muddies his shoes.

Antonio hears Romano’s tipsy ranting and comes to stand by his side. “Lovi, you should have said something.” Antonio’s breath is heavy with the scent of wine, and his hair is falling into his eyes. Romano forgets what he is on about in an instant as he locks eyes with Antonio. _Stupid green eyes..._

“If I had known you were really concerned about your brother, I would have insisted we go back.” Antonio lifts his wine glass to the sky and examines the sunlight filter through the rich red. “Sometimes, I just get so confused about what you want...”

“Foolish!” Romano blurts without thinking. “Why can’t you just read my mind?”

Antonio widens his eyes in mock surprise and knocks on the side of Romano’s head. “Oh, what, is there something going on in there?” He laughs as Romano shoves him half-teasingly into the nearest hay bale. He stumbles but catches himself before he falls, pressing himself into the hay. “Careful, Lovi, or I’d think you’re drunk off French wine.”

“I would never get drunk off French wine,” Romano says, red as a rooster. “It’s Italian or nothing!” He launches himself at Antonio, who catches him in an embrace. 

“That’s not what your body is telling me now.” Antonio tips his chin up and takes him in a deep kiss. Romano can taste the wine on his tongue. He takes his time returning Antonio’s kiss.

“I’m confused too,” Romano admits when he pulls away. “But I think... I think we should go.” It’s as if the wine and the kiss melted the last resistant part of him **.** “I don’t know what’s really going on back home, and...Feliciano needs me.” He can’t stop his face from heating up as he has a rare exercise in expressing a hidden truth. Cursed is he, that he can blush without the slightest provocation. Blessed is he, that Antonio loves it. And loves him.

“Bella!” Antonio yells from across the field. “THANK YOU FOR YOUR HOSPITALITY BUT WE’VE GOT TO GO NOW!”

“WHAT?” Bella yells back.

Romano sinks behind the hay bale as Bella crosses the field and the nations exchange their squiffy goodbyes. _This is too embarrassing..._

“Thank you, Bella,” he says when it’s his turn to bid her arrivederci. Normally he would feel too shy to say more than a few gruff words to her, but the wine has loosened his tongue. “It was lovely, and please feel free to stop by Italy anytime for a tomato, or an Italian wine... it will definitely be better than anything France has to off—”

“Alright, see you later!” Antonio waves and yanks Romano by his collar, off to their rental car.

“Hey!” Romano yells in protest—but really, he understands.

***

Fourteen and a half agonizing hours later, they arrive at the border. The trip back would have ordinarily been pleasant, Antonio’s bags well stocked with a deck of cards and provisions of bread, cheese, grapes, and tomatoes for the journey. Romano is feeling a little sick from the wine and blames Francis in a sleepy voice as he lets the _hissssss_ and _clack-clack_ of the train lull him to sleep. Antonio looks upon Romano’s sun-drenched head and thought about pulling his curl. It was for the best, though. Sometimes when Romano was overwhelmed with worry, the best thing he could do was sleep. His usual manner of cursing and floundering about, while cute in a rough sort of way, was not particularly effective.

Antonio has held back too long. That curl is teasing him, tempting him into action. As the train pulls into the station, he yanks Romano’s hair with everything he’s got.

“CHIIIGIIII!” Romano shoots up with a furious scream before he is even fully conscious. It takes him a moment to orient himself before he gives his best evil eye to Antonio. “Oh, you’re dead.” He stalks off ahead of him to exit the train; Antonio with his long legs needs only a few moments to catch up. “You forgot your bag, my lovely tomato,” Antonio says with all the sweetness he can muster.

“Maybe not so dead,” Romano snaps as he takes his bag from his boyfriend. “Maybe only a little dead, for calling me a tomato.”

Romano heads straight for his brother’s home, and then his room, not even stopping to drop his bags. He thrusts open the doors with a smack. “Just what is going on here?!”

Feliciano is resting in bed when Romano bursts in—sleeping, it looks like. He opens his eyes just a crack and winces at the light filtering it. He reaches for his water and rubs his eyes. “Lovi...?” he says, sleepy and confused. His voice perks up as he comes back to reality, assuring himself that he is no longer dreaming. “Lovi! You really came!”

“I heard you were sick.” Romano speaks brusquely as he glances around. “It’s good to see that potato bastard isn’t around.”

“Lovi...” Feliciano’s face falls. “That’s not very kind. And besides, he just went out on a grocery run to get some snacks and medicine for me. He’ll be back soon.” He shifts to sit up in bed. “So Lovi, what have you been up to?”

“We just went to visit Bella,” Romano says. “And a couple other friends.”

Antonio: “Today we went drinking—”

Romano: “At least call it wine-tasting!”

“—at Bella’s farm,” Antonio adds. “She recently started a vineyard, and she’s been collecting wine as well.”

“Wow! That sounds like fun!” A genuine delight shines through Feliciano’s smile. He looks bright, even as his slim white hand lays lifeless on the blanket below. _How can Feliciano constantly be so happy for others?_ Part of Romano feels angry that he can be like that, but another part of him wants to sweep his brother up in a hug, sickness be damned.

“We were gone almost all week,” Romano says. “But I got your letter, and I felt it was better to come back right away.”

“After a little wine in the sunshine...” Antonio intejects. “Or a lot...”

“Shut it,” Romano hisses at Antonio. A wave of guilt washes over him, and he turns to refocus his attention on Feliciano. “You look cold.” He places his hand over Feliciano’s own, letting the heat from his day of sun and wine soak into his brother.

Feliciano accepts his hand with joy, lacing his fingers through Romano’s and giving it a light squeeze. “Ah so you haven’t heard...” Feliciano’s voice trails off, uncertain.

“Heard what?” Romano tries to be patient, but he can feel his face twitching as Feliciano struggles to find the words to explain what’s been going on.

“When you were gone... well, er, there’s been a sort of...how should I say it...crisis.”

“A crisis?!”

“A lot of people have gotten sick here,” Feliciano says. “Myself included. It’s this kind of disease that comes from... Ludwig said it comes from bats? I don’t really get how that makes any sense...” He laughs weakly. “Scientists are trying to find the cure, but for now, I just have to stay put. Doctor’s orders!”

He is strangely cheery as he relates this news of an epidemic sweeping the nation. Well, it would be strange for anyone except Feliciano to be happy at moments like these. _Too happy for his own damn good!_ Romano thought.

“I’m sorry to hear that,” Antonio says. He places a hand gently on Feliciano’s arm. Romano is processing as he does.

“Oh yeah, I forgot to tell you.” Feliciano coughs, not bothering to cover his mouth. “This disease, well, it’s highly infectious.”

“What the hell!” Romano jumps to his feet. “Why didn’t you tell us earlier!”

“Oh, Ludwig didn’t tell you in the letter? I was too sick to write the other day, so he did it for me...”

“That _bastard_!” It really was that potato bastard’s fault, after all. Every damn time! How it was even possible to be so annoying, Romano didn’t know.

“We’re leaving,” Romano snaps, and gestures at Antonio to get up. 

“I hope you get well soon,” Antonio hurriedly tells Feliciano as Romano shepherds him out the door. “Please tell us if there’s any news!”

Feliciano waves as they head out the door. “It was nice to see you! Come by later!”

***

Walking through the empty cobblestone streets, Romano is on high alert for signs that Italy has changed. But it’s hard to find many. Were there fewer people out? It seemed to be a regular-sized crowd, enough that Romano and Antonio had to weave through throngs of people out to shop, eat, and drink. It was only when rounding the corner from home that he heard a couple of friends gossiping about the sickness. Maybe it wasn’t as bad as Ludwig made it sound. Feli would be fine soon.

Back at the Vargas’ summer home, Romano sighs and asks, “Was I too harsh?” 

“That isn’t like you,” Antonio glanced at him. “Are you feeling bad about this?”

“No!” Romano sulks. “Never. I just... I just don’t know what’s going to happen to him. And now I have to worry about us too.” 

“Lovi.” Antonio comes to sit next to him. He covers Romano’s hand in his own, just as Romano did for Feliciano. His palm is bigger than Feliciano’s, and Romano feels his hand wrapped in Antonio’s warmth as Antonio starts to stroke Romano’s hand with his thumb. “I think it’s very sweet how much you care for your brother. I could see that today, more than ever.”

 _What did he ever do to deserve this guy?_ Romano turns away, but this time to cough.

“Are you getting sick like your brother?” Antonio teases. “What am I gonna do with two useless Italies, huh? Oh wait...that’s normal...”

It turns out that Antonio was right. Before Romano could retaliate, they heard a knock on the door. Romano opened it to find the Vargas family doctor standing there. 

“So kind of you to stop by our home.” Antonio smiles as he answers the door. “Do come in.”

The doctor is respectful, but brusque, only stopping by after acknowledging receipt from the perpetually responsible Ludwig that Feliciano had come into contact with Romano and Antonio. “Good evening, Signore Vargas, Signore Hernández Carriedo. I heard you visited, er, the younger Signore Vargas today, correct?” When they nod, he continues. “From today, I recommend a strict quarantine. We’ve found out the virus is more contagious than we first thought. Until you’re better, you should stay apart, in your own quarters. Wash your hands often and well, no sharing food or drinks, and absolutely no touching.”

 _Stupid Feli!_ Romano felt a wave of frustration wash over him, and tried to blunt his sour expression in front of the doctor. _This was so annoying! Why did he have to get sick?_

“Well, that’s all,” the doctor says, perhaps a note too cheery. He dons his hat and steps back into the night.

“No time for questions, no nothing!” Romano says. “What kind of doctor’s visit is that...”

Antonio snakes a hand around Romano’s waist. “Would you like a different kind of doctor’s visit...?”

“Shut up!” Romano laughs in spite of himself. He halfheartedly pushes Antonio away, but both of them know his heart isn’t in it, moreso as they draw closer, and kiss deeper and deeper, and in the end have a very different kind of doctor’s visit indeed.

***

 _Do I regret this?_ is the first thought in Romano’s mind when he wakes up the next morning. His throat feels like he’s swallowed glass all night, his nose feels bloated, and all he wants to do is lie down and sleep forever.

“You...you’re just a vector for disease!” Romano cries, wincing as his throat fights his efforts to speak. “Stay away from me, you dirty—”

“You’re the one who’s diseased,” Antonio tells him. “Look at you. Your fever. Your tissues. And what’s this?” He pokes Romano in the nose, and Romano promptly sneezes. “So much mucus, ewwww~!”

Romano glares at Antonio as he wipes his slimy philtrum. “I regret kissing you,” he tells Antonio, who reacts with a shade of mock horror Romano fears reflects something real underneath.

“You heard the doctor,” Romano croaks. “Stay the hell away from me!”

Drifting into a painful sleep, he thinks: _No, I do not regret this. Not for a single moment._

***

Antonio slips into his room at night, easing open the door.

“Guess who,” he whispers in Romano’s ear.

Despite Romano’s illness and drowsiness, he is quick to scream.

“What are you doing here?” he demands to know.

“I just wanted to see you.” Antonio buries his face in Romano’s hair to give him a kiss. He sits down on Romano’s bed, turning sideways to hold him.

“You’re an idiot, you know that?” And Romano loves it, though he leaves that part unsaid. His illness has left him tired, hardly able to drink or breathe properly. His irritability melts away as he allows himself to enjoy the familiar warmth and weight of Antonio’s body, takes in his smell, and kisses hi—”Wait!”

Antonio stops, pulls back for a moment. “What?”

“You’re gonna get sick,” Romano mumbles. “You don’t wanna be like me...” Jesus, is that a tear leaking from the edge of his eye? _I’m just tired_ , he tells himself. Antonio lowers himself back down to the bed and nestles against Romano, kissing any part of his exposed jaw, neck, and shoulders that he can reach.

“I don’t care,” Antonio murmurs. His voice is soft, blurred by the fact that his lips are now pressed to Romano’s chest. “I love you. And I want to show you that I love all of you. Even when you’re sick. Whether you have a fever, or you’re coughing, or covered in mucus—”

“Gross, that’s enough—”

“—I don’t care.”

Antonio’s earnest gaze burns away the walls of Romano’s heart. He feels himself grow hotter than a fever could ever make him feel.

“Okay, fine, you can stay,” Romano mutters. He can feel the happiness radiate off Antonio as he snuggles in to share Romano’s bed. _He would have got infected anyway..._ speaks Romano’s delirious mind. _One way or another._

The next morning, Antonio rises with energy. “I feel great,” he says, giving Romano a big kiss. “No, better than great. Hmm, dare I say...stupendous!”

“I’m so happy for you,” whispers Romano, sniffling under layers of blankets. “Now go away!”

Antonio does just that, going about his business in town, gleefully infecting the unsuspecting masses...or was it them that infected him, when two days later, he wakes up inevitably suffering? Romano is first to say, “I told you so.” It hurts his throat, but he takes great pleasure in saying it.

There's nothing else to do but to feverishly curl up together and try to dream.

 _Feliciano, Romano, Antonio_ _Hernández Carriedo_ _._

Three idiots dream under the Tuscan sun, blood dancing with suns of their own. Some say they are still dreaming now, each day becoming more furious and delirious as towns, cities, and the whole of their great nation bend in upon themselves.


End file.
